Escape From Heartland Peak Academy
by Reginald Kastle
Summary: Locked in a school where no one is who they say they are and everything is not as it seems.


Prologue: Curiousity.

Words: 2,014

Characters: Chris Arclight, Durbe.

Warnings: Character Death, gore.

It was midnight. The man hears the chiming of the building's clock tower in the distance, deciding to make sure his steps were even quieter than usual as he wandered throughout the school's corridors, investigating what he had previously warned his mentor Christopher of earlier that day. They were the eldest members of the group that was left, and while they _thought_ it was much safer to take the initial advice and stay, he'd begun to feel his initial suspicions drawing louder and louder as each moment passed.

It wasn't that he didn't trust Chris, because such an accusation couldn't be _further_ from the truth, but he had a niggling feeling that someone in their group had begun to act on their own accord, and they were just in the beginning of planning something dangerous.

Just what was their name again?

He'd argued with his mentor on the topic, frowning when the Arclight had simply dismissed his claims saying that it was just the thoughts of _bad blood_ between the two and it was the reason why he was acting so strange.

"_No, you don't understand! This isn't about bad blood or the history; I really think he's going to plan something dangerous involving the lot of us."_

"_If it were so, where is your proof?" Chris shoots before sighing and running a hand down his face. "Look, I know it's been bothering you, but I can't do anything unless you have proof. Until then, if it will keep your mind at bay, I'll keep an eye on him. Will that be sufficient?"_

It was for the time, but now his main priority was to find evidence to support his cause. Its only now that he realizes that _yeah_, maybe he's not too good at this and he should have asked for the help of that Lie Detector or whatever he calls himself, but he knows that he can't disrupt the peace more than he already has and he can't involve any of the underclassmen that have accidentally found their way into this mess.

He walks into a classroom specifically for upperclassmen such as himself, raising an eyebrow as he notices a stack of pages spread across the tables in front of him. His hands clasp around the rolled up blue material lying inconspicuously on top, spreading the sheet out as far as he can before catching sight of the plans in front of him.

"Blueprints?" he questions, leaning forward and pushing his glasses further up his nose as his eyes scan the page. "What is this?"

He's distracted immediately by a crashing door and a strained yelp echoing through the window, and he discards the blueprints and any tables or chairs in his way as he peers out the window to the grounds below.

He only needs to catch sight of the ridiculously long silver hair and his binds before he's gone, discarding the documents and the room in favour of sprinting down the stairs to the scene playing out as he thinks.

He's not sure what's going on, but the gut feeling he has is making him want to vomit and he's sure it's just a side effect of his burning anxiety, so he ignores it and presses onwards, throwing himself recklessly down the stairs whilst maintaining his quiet attitude. The last thing he really wanted was the underclassmen waking up and seeing this.

He stops at the front door, panting breathlessly as his hand grips the entrance to calm his wildly beating heart. _I can't just barge in_, he reminds himself, taking a large breath and tip-toeing around the corner until his mentor was in his line of sight. _I have to look at this logically, and find a plan if I want to get Chris out of this._

He peers his head out further, spying the binds that tied the man's wrists and legs to the chair. _Only rope?_ The teen thought to himself. _Why not something more complicated or harder to break?_

He can't seem to spot the person that's tied his mentor up the way he has, though by the increasing feeling of nausea in his stomach, he's got a fairly good idea who it may be. Their banter continues as he tries to figure out the situation, sighing as he comes up short. _Just what is he supposed to do?_ He's no fighter; he'd taken his prefect duties to get away from PE classes and though he was good with words, he's sure he's not _this good_ with words to be able to worm out of a situation this intense.

"you love space so much, huh? You must if you keep trying to break into worlds that you're not supposed to enter." he hears, and the anxiety that's nestled its way into his stomach launches and consumes him to the point where he feels his hand slide instinctively to his mouth to prevent himself from vomiting. "So how about I give you a tour of your own?"

Chris begins to struggle in his binds, not needing the threatening stance of the machine beside him to act as a looming confirmation of the fact that _hey I am not joking about this._

He's decided he's had enough and turns on his heel to find someone, _anyone_ that can help him when a cold sliver runs down his left arm and before he can look to see of the source, he's thrown to the ground, his glasses flying from his face and skewering into the cold hard grass that his body collides with seconds later.

He fuddles around him for the frames he needs, his desperation making his already muddled vision even harder to decipher. He finally sees the thin frames and his eyes widen in hope as he reaches out, feeling the thin metal under his fingertips. His arm begins to retract to his body when he lets out a screech, the shattering glass piercing through his palm as his hand is crushed into the ground by the same slivering slime that grasped him before.

"Well, well." The voice calls, leaning down next to the male and trailing a thumb down his face. "Of all people to come snooping around, I had anticipated anyone _but_ you." The voice pulls him to his feet, keeping as close to the male as possible to maintain his malsight. _They have to be a member of the group_¸ he concludes with a grimace. _Who else would have known about my long-sightedness?_ "Durbe, they call you, right?" the voice calls, and Durbe nods in reply. "I know all about you. Super High School Level Equestrian, no? Both a skilled rider and an astounding diplomat, many talk about you, and how you're a future embodiment for this academy. They call you a hero for the next generation."

Durbe gulps as he's dropped to his feet, gripping immediately at his bleeding hand and crying out as he pulls the small shards from his skin before pulling himself back up. "I'm no more special than anyone else in this academy."

"Oh, is that so?" the voice questions, turning to face him. He can barely make out a sparkle of silver in his blurred vision but the slightly more secure vision of Chris's panicked face speaks wonders for his current situation. "Then there's no harm in doing this then?"

"Wait, stop!" Chris calls, thrashing at his binds to get their captor's attention. "He's being modest, and you know it! He's still needed if you ever want your plan to succeed!"

The blur laughs, flicking the silver light between their fingers joyfully. "Ah, but he's seen my plans! How could you ever think I would let him leave alive, even if you were so _bold_ as to sacrifice yourself first?"

Durbe's blood runs cold as he realizes the full impact of what he's gotten himself into. He opens his mouth the speak, only to let a gargled scream escape as the silver light forces its way through his human skin and pierces his inner organs relentlessly. The light is gone as soon as it is forced through, letting the blood that flowed through the man's body gush freely from his side, not held back in the least by Durbe's hands pressing against it in a vain attempt to control his bleeding.

All he can do is let out another cry as the light enters his abdomen twice more; quick, sharp stabs that bring the desired screeching through his skin, and he drops to his knees, unable to support his weight under him any longer.

"ah, now look at that!" the voice calls, their voice echoing in almost excitement as the blood continues to flow from Durbe's body. "Christopher, are you seeing this? Look at the hope in his eyes, even on the brink of death! Maybe he was the embodiment of hope for the future generation after all." The blur claps, and Durbe finally recognises the voice. He clasps at the thought as everything slips away, though he has no strength to hold the grudge against Chris for not listening to him. "Ah well." The blur continues, reaching out and kicking at the male fiercely. "It's all in the past now."

Durbe can only manage a small smile towards his mentor who continues to thrash at his binds before his eyes slip shut permanently.

The figure waits a few minutes, gently toeing at the male until he's sure he's dead, before turning back to his original target. "What a wonderful display though, I could not have been happier with how that turned out!" Chris bares his teeth at the figure.

"You didn't have to kill him!"

"He was going to die anyway." The figure dismisses, turning to the slimy mess hiding against the wall. "Take him to the biology storerooms. Make sure no one else finds him." They watch at the mess gives a sultry smile before picking at the teens remains and drags him from sight.

The figure turns to Chris, smirking as he takes the man's cheek in the palm of his hand. "Now, now. What were we doing before that mess turned up? Oh, your space mission!" the figure laughs, turning his back from the struggling male, bending to the floor and collecting the knife from the floor. They toss the knife between their hands, twirling the stained object between his fingers.

The figure flicks the knife from their fingers and Chris has just enough time to move his head before the knife sails past, colliding with the wall of the machine. Chris gives a small smirk, only for his eyes to flash a terrified glance as the figure begins to cackle.

"Think this is over?" they question with another laugh. Chris frowns as the ground beneath him begins to shake before screeching backwards and throwing his large frame recklessly into the machine. "Hardly! Have fun in your expedition!"

The figure waves as the machine shoots into the sky, crossing their arms and smirking as the mess of go returned to their side.

"The body has been placed where you so wished, Sir." The slimy figure chimes, giving a mischievous smirk.

"Excellent. We're just finishing up here. Make sure no-one has been woken up by this display. Everyone else needs to be safe for now. And when that's done, come collect whatever remains of here and return it to where you found it."

"Yes Sir." Is all the figure hears before the sloppy mess is gone.

The machine reconnects with its platform a few minutes later, and the figure smiles warmly as the front door opens, letting the mess of bones roll out. "He left me a gift, how sweet. I'll be sure to pass these on sooner or later." He bends down, running his fingers along a bone that rests at his feet before clasping the skull and bringing it to his face.

"Don't worry Christopher; I'll _protect_ your students in your 'absence.'" The figure chuckles to themself, letting the skull collide with the floor as they leave the mess that once was Professor Arclight behind.


End file.
